


To Learn to Walk by Walking

by DoWeHaveADeal (SenseAndSilence)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe
Genre: Alpha!Gold, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, BDSM, Beta!Rush, F/M, First Time, Headmaster!Gold, Humiliation, Omega!Belle, Slow Burn, Still Storybrook though, Teacher!Rush, Teacher-Student Relationship, kinks for everyone really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 23:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenseAndSilence/pseuds/DoWeHaveADeal
Summary: In a world that is run by betas, alphas and omegas have become so rare that they are now instantly famous for it. Himself a beta, Dr. Nicholas Rush is a professor teaching physics at Storybrook University.The chancellor of SU is none other than his brother Callum Gold, a well-known alpha who is notorious for his disdain of alpha/omega breeding programs. Rush thinks this might be one of the reasons why Belle French, the youngest known omega in their state, has decided to pass out on all elite universities open to her and come to the rather small SU instead.Rush knows her arrival will have great consequences for the town and everyone around him but still manages to greatly underestimate the effect she will have on him...





	1. In a Class of Her Own

She was late, Dr. Rush thought, as he turned his back on the class and picked up a piece of chalk to write the next equation on the blackboard. The class had started an hour ago and if any other student – on their first day, no less – had come in this late to a 90 minutes class, he’d have snarled at them and send them right back home. Hell, he had send some home for thirty minutes.

“Not this student, though,” he silently mumbled into his beard while the dry chalk scraped along the board.

She was to be handled with kid gloves. Especially by him. The university council had made that abundantly and repeatedly clear to him. It was justified, of course, seeing that there was already so much pressure on her just because of who she was. He certainly wouldn’t want to swap places with her, Rush thought, then snorted under his breath. It was hard to imagine anyone would be happy with them switching places.

Behind him, the door to the lecture hall finally opened with a slow creaking noise that spoke of hesitation. Naturally, he thought, she must be a hesitant creature. The lecture hall exploded in half-loud whispers, tattling and general chaos. His own heart thumped a little too quickly as well and he found himself growing annoyed with his reaction to her. It’s just nerves, he told himself, less to do with her than with the circus that this university had set up around her since it had become clear that she’d be studying with them.

“Silence!”, Dr. Rush shouted in his best you-better-not-fuck-with-me voice. He’d perfected it in his time with the military. If you could get a class of overly testosterone-laden, young men to shut up and listen to you talk about hydrodynamics, you could silence any room. The class quieted down instantly, although it took longer for the perfect silence to re-establish itself than it normally did. Then again, he wasn’t exactly as calm as he normally was. This was an unusual situation for them all and he was sure his students had picked up on his momentary nervousness. Like bloodhounds.

“Alright.” he said evenly into the new-found silence and slowly turned towards the door to his right. There, in the shadow between the heavy wooden door and the dim outer corridor, stood Belle French. She was clad in a lacy, blue dress that covered her knees and gave her an all-round modest appearance. Her long hair was auburn and curly, with some lighter strands that in anyone else would have looked wild and with her just looked warm and made him think of honey. She wore ballet flats and her eyes were the color of her dress. His mouth suddenly felt much too dry and for a moment he had the ridiculous feeling that if he attempted to speak to her now, his voice would come out warped and croaking. Luckily, the scientific, rational half of his brain was looking at these feeling with the equivalent of a mental eye-roll. He let it take over the reins.

“Would you be Ms. French then?”, he asked her in his best teacher voice and heard problematic Mr. Hatter in the sixth row give a little snort. Of course she was… but appearances had to be kept. She took a step forward and the door closed behind her with a final thud. Suddenly, she had entered a closed, foreign space with more than 300 people looking at her and it was obvious that she felt uncomfortable, smoothing down the sides of her dress with fidgety hands. “Yes, I am.”, she said, looking at him for guidance.

He felt much better now that he could follow his usual role. “Very well, Ms. French. There is a free seat for you in the second row,” he pointed to the seat in question. “Please sit, so we can continue our work.” He waited for her to have crossed half the distance before giving the rest of his students another stern look that said _so God help me, you better behave_ and let himself fall back into lecture mode again. After only about two minutes, he was forced to act again. There was whispering. He lowered the piece of chalk from the blackboard, stopped talking and spun around in one fluid motion. While he was sure the whispering had come from more than person in the room, the first thing he saw when he took in his students was Ruby Lucas, loudly whispering into the ear of an uncomfortable looking Ms. French. “Ms. Lucas, does the concept of silent concentration overtax you?”, he asked snidely and registered all too carefully how Ms. French’s eyes widened as she took in his tone.

Ms. Lucas pulled off an unmistakable not-so-quite-eyeroll, the non-incriminating degree of which he was sure had taken her years to perfect. “I was trying to help Belle out with a problem, professor, I didn’t mean to tax your concentration,” the Lucas girl explained and again, her apology was just a hair’s breadth from impertinence.

“And what problem would that be?” he asked.

  
Ms. Lucas bit her lip, unsure now of what she had started. She looked to Ms. French who seemed to be studying the naked table top in front of her as if it held world secrets.

“Belle needs some paper for the calculations. I was telling her that she could have some of the paper from my notebook but she didn’t want me to rip it up for her.” she finally said. “Hence the whispering.”

It was only then that he realized the girl had not brought anything with her and he groaned internally. She was an hour late to his class and hadn’t brought any utensils. Hadn’t brought any paper or pencils to a physics course. Kid gloves or not, he’d have to address this with her. This wasn’t the right moment for that however, he decided as he perceived his students becoming more and more fidgety. There was a reason he normally had a no leniency policy towards issues like this. They were unnecessary, disrupting and ate up valuable course time.

“Mr. Hatter,” he said without changing the direction of his gaze in any way, still looking at Ms. Lucas. “While I am delighted that you are using today’s lesson on fluid dynamics to apply your new knowledge to the consolidation of your practical skills, I’ll also assure you that you are taking a one-way flight out of this class in a heartbeat if you even as much as think about using that paper plane you just constructed.”

Mr. Hatter had the nerve to grin. “Alright,” Jefferson said, crumbling up the paper in his hand, then holding his empty palms up in a disarming manner. “Flight’s cancelled.” There was some suppressed giggles but at Rush’s quickly clouding expression, the room became silent again.

Sighing, Rush raised his voice once more, filling it with a healthy amount of snide and sarcasm. “If anyone could lend Ms. French a pen and some paper, we will then continue with our equations. The usage of which, surprisingly enough, being the reason we have found ourselves here today.”

There was a ripple of motion in a radius of three seats around Ms. French and when finally the quickest four people presented her their offerings simultaneously, there was some more nervous laughter. Ms. French flushed a pretty shade of pink that Rush himself was decidedly not noticing and looked rather overwhelmed by the outstretched arms around her. Quickly, she just took the material that was closest to her, the pen and paper having been pushed almost into her face by Keith Nottingham. The young man’s eyes were glinting as he looked her over, having thrown himself towards her with such strength that he was poised precariously over the row of chairs between them, almost lying on the backs of Ms. French’s poor neighbors.

“Thanks.” she murmured and nodded gratefully into his general direction, avoiding eye contact.

Nottingham smirked, licking his lips. To the annoyed groans of his human support system, he leaned even further towards her and laid his now free hand on the backrest of her chair. “No problem, baby, I’ll let you have my utensils any time,” he said and gave her dirty wink, instantly provoking gasps and dirty laughs from other students. While the room was laughing, Rush saw Ms. French duck down in her seat, growing pale and clutching her hands to her chest. He could hear the blood pumping through his veins.

“SILENCE!”, he bellowed in the most hostile roar that he’d ever used in a classroom and let his fist come down on the table in front of him with a loud bang. He heard a few students actually startle with fright and flinch back from his reaction and the shock of it draped itself across the room like a thick blanket, resulting in a deathly calm. Most of his students were absolutely motionless, leaning back from him as far as their chairs would allow. Ms. French had blanched and was looking at him with a mixture of alarm and something else that he couldn’t quite make out. He stared down every student who he’d heard laughing, then slowly fixed his gaze on his prey.

“Mr. Nottingham,” Rush snarled with barely restraint contempt and the boy was smart enough not to show any false bravado but instead attempted to make himself smaller in the seat he had returned to. “You’ll pack your stuff and leave this room. You will _not_ return to my class.”

At this Nottingham‘s forehead crinkled in irritation and he opened his mouth in protest.

“You will do so silently, Mr. Nottingham, or I will be forced to carry our disagreement to higher levels of authority and let me tell you that that will not end well for you,” Rush interrupted the man’s attempted speech, his voice developing into a mocking sing-song while he spoke. When the man continued to look at him with dumb indecisiveness, Rush lost his temper once again.

“NOW!”, he shouted.

Pulled out of his trance by Rush’s anger, Nottingham scrambled to pack his bags in the bone-crushing silence of the room, not even his fellow students daring to risk a look at him as he bumped against them on his way out. Once the door fell shut behind him, Rush continued to silently stand in the uncomfortable tension that his lecture hall had fallen into and made his students sweat. He wondered, if this was making her very uncomfortable, having an escalation of this magnitude centered around her when she must have been feeling singled out already. It was no matter, he decided, uncomfortable or not, it was in Ms. French’s best interest that he made an example of Nottingham. Raising his eyes to his students once more, he made sure to drive his point home.

“I will not ever again,” Rush spoke slowly and made sure to make every word as sharp as a dagger, “have sexual harassment happen in my class or there will be _severe_ consequences.” He looked around the room, making sure to bore his stare into as many students as he could. “Do you understand?”

The embarrassed mumbling he heard sounded affirmative enough and he gave them all a curt nod. Taking a deep breath, he forced his stature to relax, looking at the clock behind him. “We’ve run out of time,” he sighed in displeasure. “I trust you have written down the steps discussed until now so that we can continue the rest of these calculations next Tuesday. Please remember to hand in your assignments regarding the problems I uploaded last week until this Friday.”

He squared his shoulders and forced himself to look as neutral as possible. “Ms. French, I’d like five minutes to talk to you in private.” Rush raised his head to look into impossibly blue eyes.

“Class dismissed,” he said.

  



	2. A Mistake in Etiquette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work in Progress

(It doesn't let me show that it's not a one chapter fic, otherwise, or at least I don't know how^^)


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